


What Happens in Vegas

by gettingby



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, Felching, Future Fic, Hand Jobs, Healthy Relationships, Jealousy, M/M, Married Sex, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Snowballing, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29873418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gettingby/pseuds/gettingby
Summary: Simon and Baz take a trip to Las Vegas for their fifth wedding anniversary. They run into a fit, blue-eyed stranger who gives them more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Lamb/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Lamb/Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Pitch/Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 21
Kudos: 64





	What Happens in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> hey look I made a new tag.
> 
> this takes place in a canon divergence where Simon and Baz never went to Vegas in WS.

SIMON

I used to get really jealous over Baz. If another man even looked at him, I felt like I wanted to stab him through the heart with a wand. But that was a younger, angrier version of myself. One that didn’t believe that I deserved Baz.

The feeling of jealousy is still here now. I think it might always be, a bit. I’d never had anything in my life that was mine for so long. And I know that I don’t possess Baz, but we belong to each other. The bands on our fingers prove that. And certain parts of him, certain things about him, are only for me. He could have given that to anyone he wanted, but he chose me.

I think that’s what’s different about the envy coiling in my belly this time. It’s there, but the love and security I feel with Baz is stronger, a tether that keeps me from fully falling into the emotion. There’s no tightness in my chest, no choked feeling in my throat. Instead, there’s just a deep burning, undulating from my stomach down to my buttocks, and forward to wrap around my prick.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” I murmur into Baz’s ear. The bloke is gorgeous. He looks like the actor from Notting Hill, only ginger. (Even though he is ginger, and a vampire to boot, he’s got colour to his skin. From human blood, I bet.)

That’s the whole point of this holiday, isn’t it? Baz will bite me sometimes, but it’s not enough. Not enough for him to feel good, to keep up his weight and his haemoglobin levels. He’s still scared, and I want him to see that he’s not alone in his vampirism. I want him to feel good about biting me, of giving me something we both need. 

Baz looks at me curiously, but he approaches the man. I trail behind him, a few paces, our fingers intertwined.

The vampire introduces himself as Lamb, which is a weird name. And then he inquires about Baz and me in a tone that I can’t fully understand. Flirtatious, maybe, or just effusive, in the way Americans aren’t embarrassed by.

“We’ve been married for five years,” Baz explains. “We came here for our anniversary.”

Lamb is saying something about how nice it is to hear an English accent again. He started pulling back on the flirtation when Baz mentioned that we’re married, and that somehow disappoints me. 

So I crowd in closer behind Baz. I blow warm air behind his ear, and he stiffens. Lamb catches my eye, and I hold his gaze. I smile a little, a Baz Pitch kind of smirk. I only break the eye contact to flick my eyes over to Baz.

They chat a bit longer, and I’m content to listen to the rumble of Baz’s voice and not contribute. I love hearing him talk in that posh voice. He’s so different around strangers, and it’s kind of thrilling to see this side of him. Restrained, aloof, even more alluring for it.

At one point, Lamb leans in, just a bit, and brushes Baz’s shoulder with his hand. Innocuous enough, especially at this party, where everyone’s pliant with alcohol or blood or vampire venom. Baz’s breath catches a bit, and I’m in awe. I’ve never really seen the way Baz responds to touch from another perspective.

I know he was starved for it, for a long time, but he’s not anymore. Still, he’s as desperate and wanton as he was when we first started fucking, even today. And I know the change in his breath was more likely surprise, or confusion. And that I shouldn’t let this - which is weird and something we haven’t talked about beyond hypotheticals, and even those talks haven’t been for years - keep going without clueing him in.

If this is anything. I mean, I don’t think Lamb is going to - what, join us? That seems bizarre. Like the type of thing that goes on in porn but never in real life. (Though it’s going on in this room. In multiple different ways.)

But I’m feeling deeply aroused, and I’d not mind dragging Baz back to our hotel room - or maybe a corner in here, though that’s more of a distant dirty thought than an actual impulse - and enacting the fantasy.

Lamb seems to sense my impatience, because he shoots another dark look at me (Crowley, he is pretty, isn’t he? Not as fit as Baz, but one of the hottest vampires I’ve seen. And him being a vampire only adds to that for me, I’m sure).

He says, “Lovely to meet you gentlemen. Perhaps we can continue this conversation in my own quarters. Up to you both, of course.” He reaches around and slips a card into Baz’s back pocket with the kind of speed and grace neither of us has time to react to.

It’s a room key. I recognize the matte black and red design of it. When I look back up, Lamb is gone.

Baz laughs uncomfortably as he pulls the card out of his pocket. “Wow, what was that about?”

“Want to sit?” I ask, motioning towards one of the couches. He nods.

“Sorry,” he says immediately, once we’re settled. “I should have picked up on the - vibe, I suppose.”

“It’s okay. I have a kind of weird explanation,” I answer. He quirks his eyebrow at me.

“Lamb was looking at me. And I kind of - looked back. I think he was feeling out if he had, you know, permission.”

“Excuse me?” Baz answers.

“Like, uh. To offer a...threesome?”

Baz’s eyes widen and he laughs. “Wow. Well, what happens in Vegas, as they say. That’ll be a funny story to tell Bunce and Shepard.”

“Baz,” I reply, “I kind of want to?”

He frowns reflexively, but his face relaxes as he studies my expression.

“This isn’t a joke?”

I shake my head.

“Or some kind of test?”

“We’re beyond that, babe.”

“And you’re not thralled?”

“You know no one can do that to me besides for you,” I point out. It’s a handy vampire mating thing. He studies my eyes for a bit longer, but seems to find no evidence to the contrary.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“That’s okay,” I assure him. “No pressure if it’s not your thing.”

“I do think about it,” he says carefully. “But, not...as me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I just imagine myself being somebody else. Who has permission to think about these things.”

I sit up straighter. “Why do you need permission?”

I’ve considered that Baz is demisexual before. He’s never, ever, admitted to being attracted to anyone else. I have - I _am_. All the time. I tell him about it, too, and he doesn’t mind. 

I’ve asked him, before, if he’s ever liked anyone else. He denies it vigourously.

“Not even celebrities?” I asked once.

It’s strange, because Baz has never been shy about sex. He’s always confident, happy to tell me exactly what he wants. He’s open about his kinks. 

Baz is still mulling over my question. Finally, he says, “I think I’m a little repressed.”

“Really?”

“I’ve never wanted anyone except you. But I think — I also haven’t wanted to want anyone.”

“That’s okay. There’s nothing weird about that,” I say, because I’m worried I’m pushing him. Making him feel like there’s something wrong with him.

He shakes his head. “I know. And I’ve considered that - being kind of asexual. But that doesn’t feel like the right description for me.”

He sighs.

“I knew I was gay — even before I knew that I loved you. Just a sense of things being different. As a kid, even, I would imagine having a friend that I could be with all the time. I thought I was just lonely, but that wasn’t all of it. It was always a boy.

“I think I just — realised one day. When I became closer to Niall, actually. I don’t think I was ever attracted to him,” he says quickly, “But I realised that whenever I made a friend, if they were a boy, I’d get this sense of excitement. Like maybe they were _the_ friend. After I realised that...I was pretty angry with myself. Mostly because I thought I should have figured it out earlier. I became paranoid. You know I’m naturally very secretive. I don’t like people knowing things about me unless I trust them. So I was afraid I’d unknowingly revealed things about myself.

“Thinking about it now, the first few months were confusing. Now that I knew that I was gay, I would get this kind of fluttering anxiety when I talked to some boys. I thought it was the fear of exposing myself, but in hindsight...it was butterflies, too, in a way.”

I squeeze his hand and hang on to his every word. I love learning new things about Baz. I’ll never stop discovering him.

“And then you wouldn’t stop following me, fifth year, and I kept dreaming about you, and wanting to bite you. But for the first time, I had an outlet for my emotions. Hating, and eventually pretending to hate, you. It was with the same kind of intensity, so I could channel my feelings into it.”

“I was the same way.”

“I definitely used my feelings for you to bury my emotions. If I felt sad, or anxious, I’d just think about you. Leave my brain behind entirely, and let myself be consumed with thoughts of you. I put you on a pedestal, as everything right and good and perfect. Everything I wasn’t.”

“It’s so strange, but I felt the same about you.”

“I suppose that I also redirected any attraction to other people to you. Because you were unattainable, and therefore safe.”

“What about once we got together?”

He shrugs. “I suppose — it’s a habit.”

I nod. “Alright.”

I let the idea go. I’m happy with this, just gaining some insight about Baz, and giving him a way to consider it too.

“Want to check out that Thai place?” I suggest.

He nods.

I use the loo while Baz is still finishing his meal. And when I return, I see the vampire — Lamb — sitting at our booth, talking to Baz.

Baz catches my eye, and I smile at him. He nods, just barely, and turns his attention back to Lamb.

I see him giving Lamb a once-over. I’m not vain, but I do sense that Baz has a type. And I think he notices Lamb’s thick, reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and the fact that he’s around my height.

Lamb invites us to drinks, and we agree. I let myself get lost in my thoughts while Baz chats with him, giving Baz’s thigh a reassuring squeeze once in a while.

Night falls, and the bar goes dim. At some point, my hand migrates up Baz’s thigh. I feel him stiffen and then relax. I feel the head of Baz’s cock tucked down his leg; he’s hard.

I bring my hand up, and he struggles not to respond. We’re in a dark, secluded corner, so no one would notice us. Except our companion. He looks amused.

Baz is breathing more heavily now. His composure is disappearing. I know for a fact that he can keep a straight face with even more semi-public stimulation, so I suppose this situation is doing it for him, or he’s putting on a show. Either one turns me on like mad.

Lamb leans closer. Eventually, once I’m rubbing Baz hard and fast, he smirks. 

“Are you alright, Baz? You look flushed.”

He doesn’t reply. Just squirms, and pushes his hips further towards my palm. I give him a squeeze, and he moans quietly.

Lamb looks at me, and I chime in, to give him permission to tease Baz more.

“I think you just need to release some tension, don’t you, baby?” I say. “You’re so much closer than usual. I think you like putting on a show.”

Baz looks at the two of us, suddenly completely alert. And then he rolls his hips against me, long and languorous. He tilts his head back and moans. Just a fraction too loudly.

“Would you like to come to my apartment, or finish the fun here?” Lamb asks.

I put my other arm around Baz’s shoulders and squeeze him. “Whatever you want, hm?”

Baz smirks. And then in one fluid motion, he stands up, his jacket neatly folded on his arm, hiding his erection.

“Let’s go.”

Leaving the bar is a little awkward. Whatever confidence we both had in there flags a bit. But I’m still too excited by the prospect of what’s to come to turn back now, and he’s eager, too.

The three of us end up on a large sofa. Baz is in the middle, and I’m kissing him while Lamb sucks on his neck. Then we switch - Baz kisses Lamb, and I bite the back of his neck and rub his stomach.

We negotiate boundaries and kinks in between kisses. Baz is getting increasingly riled up.

“I’ll give you two a moment. Join me in the bedroom once you’re ready,” Lamb says.

“Doing okay?” I ask Baz once he’s out of earshot.

He nods.

“I didn’t expect you to be...ready for this,” I confess.

“I’m not entirely,” he says. “But it feels good. Having you around makes me feel safe in...exploring my sexuality.”

“I’m glad.”

“What do you want out of this?” he asks.

“I want to see you out of your mind with pleasure. Because I love you and you deserve it,” I say earnestly. “And selfishly...it turns me on, to see somebody else have sex with you.”

“I think that won’t be hard to achieve,” Baz says with a laugh. He stands up and holds out his hand, and we walk to the bedroom together.

We kiss for a while there, too, and touch each other through our clothes. Until I’m achingly hard, and Baz is moaning with abandon, and even Lamb, who’s been annoyingly composed the whole time, is breathless and impatient.

We strip, then, and eventually Baz’s head is in Lamb’s lap, and he’s taking his cock deep, and Lamb is gasping and petting his hair and praising him.

He’s so good at this. I’m so lucky. I see the surprise, the ecstasy, on Lamb’s face as Baz sucks him, and I flush all over.

He’s so hot. Even complete strangers want him. But he’s all mine, unless I decide to share him.

I can’t resist Baz’s arched back and raised arse any longer, even though I’m enjoying watching him. I lean down and lick over his asshole, and he moans through a mouthful of cock.

Lamb asks him to pull off, and then Baz rolls on his side. Lamb shuffles down the bed and takes Baz into his throat, and Baz tangles one hand in my hair and one hand in his takes the pleasure from both sides until he’s a sobbing mess.

“I’m about to come,” he warns, and we both pull away. He whines, and grits his teeth, and finally gets himself under control.

I finger him for a while, then, until he’s loose and ready, and then he rolls onto his stomach and sets his head on my lap. Lamb lines himself up behind him, and I watch, awed, as his cock slowly disappears into Baz’s hole.

“You take it so well, baby,” I breathe, stroking his hair. “You deserve to be taken care of, hmm?”

“You feel so good,” Lamb adds, and Baz hums appreciatively at the deluge of praise. Eventually, Lamb starts fucking him faster, and harder. Baz’s fingers are pressing bruises into my thighs. The look on his face is pure rapture.

“I feel so desperate, when you watch me,” he whispers. Lamb shifts a bit, and I bring a hand down to pinch Baz’s nipple. He chokes down a gasp and moans.

“Is it good for you?”

He moans loudly in response, timed perfectly with a well-angled thrust on Lamb’s part.

I swallow. I feel like a serious perv, but I say it anyway. “Tell Lamb how much you love his cock.”

“It feels incredible,” Baz gasps. “Deep — deeper, please —”

Lamb lifts Baz with ease, and settles him on his haunches. He places his hands under Baz’s arse as Baz rides him. It’s difficult for Baz, especially as he comes closer to climax. I wrap my arms around his waist and rock him back onto Lamb’s cock.

“I’m going to come,” Lamb says, and I run a thumb over Baz’s lip.

“Do you want Lamb to come inside of you?” I ask, and he nods.

“You’re so desperate,” I whisper, out of my mind with amazement. “One cock isn’t enough today? One load isn’t enough?”

I wrap a hand around the back of Lamb’s neck, as Baz and I coax him to come. “Fill him up,” I urge. “Get him wet.”

Lamb grunts one last time, and then with a shudder he comes inside of Baz.

We take a break, then. Drink water, clean up, eat snacks. Baz kisses Lamb languorously, tangles his fingers in Lamb’s hair and holds him. I’m filled with want and love. Baz is so good, and so kind, and he deserves so much.

I click open the lube and start fingering Baz, and he thrusts back against my fingers, still kissing Lamb. As I rub his prostate, and Lamb pulls him off, I feel my arousal mounting.

Then, as I pull my fingers out, I bring a fat wad of come with them.

I see red. I’m jealous, so jealous, and so turned on. I lube up my cock with quick, imprecise movements. “Need you,” I moan. “Can I, please?”

Baz grinds his arse back and nods. I slide into him with one long thrust.

He senses the spike in my heart rate, the blood pumping to my face. I’m blushing all over, consumed completely by Baz and my own emotions. I’m jealous, yes, but it’s not...bad. Not when I get to have him like this. (Not when I can feel the rest of Lamb’s come slipping around inside of him, and imagine shoving even more up there, making him put on his pants right away, and walking him back into our hotel room while he drips cum with every step.)

“I love you,” Baz whispers, twisting his neck to kiss me. I kiss him back with desperation. Everything right now is him. I love him so much. I want to worship him. I want to build a temple for him, and let everyone worship him, just like this.

I’m crying when I finally come. I flop onto my back, completely spent, physically and emotionally. I just stroke Baz’s sweaty, tangled hair as Lamb sucks him off, and fingers him. He licks Baz’s asshole and comes back with a mouthful of come, and I nearly get hard again when he crawls onto me, and kisses it into my mouth.

It’s so dirty. Fuck, I feel so dirty.

Baz watches, hand wrapped around his cock, and before any of us realise what’s happening he comes. He splatters his seed over the both of us.

It takes a while for him to stop shuddering and catch his breath. We hold him through it. He excuses himself, then, and staggers to the bathroom to clean himself up.

I’m so tired I can barely acknowledge it.

“How was that?” Lamb asks, inching closer to me and stroking a curl away from my face. My heart beats faster. He’s so close, and his eyes are this striking, icy shade of blue. He looks beautiful and predatory.

“Bite me,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut.

“Shh,” he says, rubbing my back. “We’ve got to wait for your husband to return. I’d never bite someone else’s Bleeder without permission.”

I nearly sob at the word. It should feel demeaning, and yet it’s exactly what I want. To be the one who bleeds for Baz.

In the end, Baz returns. He grips me tightly, possessively, when Lamb even mentions biting me. Suddenly, he’s feral. 

We compromise. Baz bites me under Lamb’s watchful eye, and after he’s sucked down his fill, he lets Lamb take what he wants from me too. It’s too much after they’ve drained my bollocks dry, too. I can’t get hard again, but my body aches with wanting to. I’m helpless, desperate, empty.

“Please,” I beg, even once Lamb pulls off, though I don’t know what I’m begging for.

“Shh,” Baz says, and shiver at the sudden composure of his voice, the confidence of the order. “Lamb is getting you water and food. Are you okay?”

“More than okay,” I mumble. “Baz, I - I feel so empty. Can you…” I push back against him, and Baz laughs in shock and delight.

“Simon — are you serious?”

I nod, and he runs his finger around my rim curiously, and I shiver and moan. I look back at him through hooded eyes.

“Is it the venom?” He asks, concerned. I shrug. “Maybe, but…”

“Then we’re waiting,” he says, and I whine at the finality in his voice.

He pets me, soothes me. When Lamb returns, they take turns feeding me and making sure that I’m hydrated. By the end I’m sleepy, and aroused, and all I want is to rub one out and sleep for a thousand years.

“Be a good boy and get your rest.” I hear Lamb’s dark chuckle in my ear. “Baz and I will have a chat, and figure out what to do with you.”

It lingers, like a promise and a threat. I shudder.

BAZ

I’m pleasantly sore, and flushed with blood. I keep Simon under my watchful eye, even as Lamb and I settle against the chaise in his enormous bedroom.

He pours me a drink, and we sit in silence for a while. I check my phone — it’s nearly midnight, but I don’t feel sleepy. I watch Simon, and Lamb watches us both.

We chat. Lamb is an excellent conversationalist. He asks me about the state of vampirism in London, and I admit I don’t know much about it. He tells me about being Turned. He tells me about mages driving the vampires out of England, and I’m grateful he doesn’t know my surname.

Simon stirs eventually, and I go to him.

“How are you?” I ask, suddenly anxious.

“Good,” he says. “Really good.”

“Like, venom good?”

“Food and a nap good.” He leans in and kisses me. I respond, and it’s sweet and leisurely, until he pulls me on top of himself and bites my lip.

I moan and he squirms below me, grinding himself against my thigh. He’s so shameless. My throat is dry. 

“Simon, it’s two in the morning…”

“Just a little bit longer,” he begs. “I’m so empty, Baz.”

It takes a bit longer to talk through things between the three of us. Then, I open Simon up under my fingers. I want to take as much care with him as he did with me, but Simon is incredibly needy, and I’m too wrung out to resist him.

“Hush,” Lamb says, swallowing Simon’s whine with a kiss. I line myself up and Simon gasps with enthusiasm as I slide in.

“So good,” he bawls. I turn him onto his stomach, and he presses his face into the pillow. Lamb manages to sort of wriggle under him - it takes a bit of reconfiguring, but he’s able to get his mouth on Simon’s cock in a sixty-nine kind of way.

That goes on for a bit, but Simon’s not close to coming, and neither am I. I’m not twenty anymore; I can’t recover like I used to.

“Babe, I need more,” Simon mumbles. He reaches down to paw at Lamb’s cock, which is untouched and throbbing. “Do you think…”

“Are you suggesting what we talked about earlier?” Lamb asks, after he pops off Simon’s cock.

“Are you sure? That seems kind of...insane,” I add.

“I’m sure,” he says. “At least try...please.”

Lamb knows the best way to make it work, because of course he does. Simon squats between us awkwardly, and we both finger him and stretch him out until it feels like there’s enough give. Honestly, if it wasn’t for Simon’s relentless enthusiasm, the whole thing wouldn’t be that sexy.

I’m thicker than Lamb, so I slide in first, and it’s easy. He’s so loose from being fucked. I’m sure that I’m even more relaxed back there, but I swallow. I’m not going take it twice in one night; my muscles are sore. I hope Lamb doesn’t try to bottom afterwards. I’m already going to be stiff for a week.

I hold Simon open. I’m the one facing him, so I get to watch his expression, and I do so closely because I’m worried about hurting him. He does pick up his breathing, then lets out long exhales. He’s focused on keeping himself open and pliant, so there’s no pain. (Less pain.)

He squirms as Lamb enters further, and it’s not in a bad way. He’s trying to get more, take it faster, and I’m awed yet again by the feats Simon Snow can accomplish when he puts his mind to them.

And then we’re both in there, and it’s so tight I feel like I could die. Simon’s walls are so soft, contrasting with Lamb’s firmness. Simon starts rocking against us, finally, and it’s barely fucking — just grinding himself down.

He’s whimpering, and overwhelmed, and he’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I could cry. I meet Lamb’s eyes — they’re dark with arousal.

“Fuck,” Simon gasps. “Shit, fuck, damn, fuck…” It’s a steady stream of curses that sound like prayers. I start jerking him off, and he moans even more loudly. “So full. I’m so full. I’m…”

He’s red-faced, drooling, completely taken, and I would come on the spot if I weren’t squeezed so tightly inside him.

The motions of his hips stutter, and then he comes in pearlescent bursts against my hand. I feed Simon’s come to Lamb, on a whim, and Simon whimpers as he watched Lamb lap it up greedily.

“Bite me again,” Simon says, and I stare.

“What? No.”

“It’s getting to be too much,” he says. “It’ll feel good again if you bite me.”

It’ll be easier to come, too, for both of us. And again, because I’m tired, and because I can’t deny Simon Snow anything, I sink my teeth into his wrist. Lamb does the same with the meat of his shoulder.

I screw my eyes shut. It’s so good; he tastes so good. Like cinnamon buns and smoky bacon, and the sharpness of arousal, and the calm scent of post-orgasmic bliss. I can hear his heart, so loudly, and feel it pulse against my tongue.

I love him. I love him I love him I love him he’s mine all mine he—

I come, hard. And it’s not long after that I feel another hot spill of come against my cock.

We don’t pull out right away. I hold Simon, who is gasping, writhing, utterly overstimulated, utterly out of it. Then Lamb slides out, slowly, and I swallow at the delicious drag of his cock against mine. The come that he takes with him. The stunning realisation that we’ve done something truly insane. Dirty. Exciting.

I wash off again, as does Lamb, and I bring back a towel for Simon, who is already dozing off. Lamb curls into bed around Simon, his slimmer frame slotting against Simon’s wide one, and I take the other side. He’s so warm, like a space heater for two chilly vampires.

I feel whole, and free, and like I’m bursting with possibility. I feel consumed by the strength of my emotions, with the way that colours and smells feel different now, as if a wall between myself and the world has come down.

Maybe I am repressed.

I decide that I can worry about that more tomorrow, and allow Simon’s heartbeat and Lamb’s soft mattress to lull me to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! say hi (or send hate mail) on [tumblr](http://im-gettingby.tumblr.com)


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